


Save Room For Us

by agrestenoir



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Mentions of Gabriel Agreste - Freeform, Romance, mentions of mylene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-19 01:55:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22836652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/agrestenoir/pseuds/agrestenoir
Summary: Gabriel Agreste is on a warpath, Marinette just wants to hide, but Adrien has other plans.
Relationships: Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug
Comments: 13
Kudos: 343





	Save Room For Us

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Yilena](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yilena/gifts).



> Belated ML Secret Santa gift for the lovely xieuryn. Was extremely fun to be able to write something for one of my favorite writers. Hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful rest of your day!

Gabriel Agreste is on a warpath, and Marinette Dupain-Cheng wants absolutely _no part_ in it.

Heels clacking against the porcelain tile, heart practically jumping into her throat, the twenty-four-year-old fashion designer hustles down the hall from Gabriel’s office, his yells reverberating through the corridor for all passersby to hear. The frenzy that comes with the spring line is settling over Agreste Fashions like a tangible fog, thick and cloying with all the chaos it usually brings. Her fellow designers had warned her what the season is like, but she’d dutifully ignored them until she caught sight of Gabriel Agreste stalking the halls like a reaper on a mission, her latest portfolio clenched in his hand.

“Marinette,” comes the voice of Mylene, the darling receptionist on the twenty-first floor. “There’s some rooms the models use to get ready in down the way. They should be empty right now. Second door on your left.”

Marinette dashes past, Gabriel’s shadow lurking around the corner. “Thanks, Mylene!” she calls over her shoulder, a fragile smile stretching across her face as she picks up the pace. It won’t be long before Gabriel catches up, and she needs to be long gone—and _stay_ long gone—before he gets wind of where she’s heading.

It’s a sidestep and a shimmy around the corner the lets her sneak into the room Mylene told her about. She closes the door softly behind her and holds her breathe, clenching her eyes shut and straining her ears for any sign that Gabriel had followed her. There’s bellows that echo on and on, but no pounding footsteps or aggressive huffs from a boss hell-bent on firing her.

“You hiding from someone?” a voice asks from right beside her, hot puffs of air tickling her cheek and making her shiver and scream. It’s honestly quite the sight.

Marinette has no room to skitter back and ends up in a crumbled ball against the door, heels unable to capture her graceful fall from victory. After today’s events, it’s clear she needs to speak to the director of the design program at Esmod about adding some situational awareness classes to the curriculum, especially if you’re working for one Gabriel Agreste and dating his wallflower of a son.

Adrien Agreste stands shirtless in the dim light of the waiting room, skin glowing a faint gold as he crosses his arms over his chest. Her eyes flicker along the slope of his shoulders, down to the crease of his hips, along the toned thighs covered by thin denim and… She’s not exactly sure how she got into this situation—isn’t entirely certainly how to get of it either—but she still finds herself thanking whatever deity is listening for this one moment.

“Thought you were supposed to be working,” she murmurs quietly into the space between them, clenching her eyes shut to catch her breath. “You said you’d be in the office all morning.”

“I am at the office,” he tells her.

“ _Your_ office,” she argues because there’s a fucking difference. His office is at the university across the city where he attends graduate school like a good student who’s _supposed_ to be working today.

“My name is _literally_ on the side of the building, Marinette,” Adrien presses, but she’s stopped listening. Why did she have to fall in love with such a smart ass?

“Can you be serious for like ten seconds?” she asks.

He just smirks at her distress, and it’s _so_ infuriating. Here she is, on the run from his father—a predicament she didn’t think she’d ever be in unless he were to find out the two were dating—and all Adrien can do is tease like it’s his self-appointed duty to bring her as much trouble as possible. It’s not like she needs any help in the department though because certainly Marinette’s reached her quota for bad luck already this morning.

“You look tense,” is all he offers.

“Your father got my submissions for the spring collection,” she tells him.

“…And?”

She opens one eye to glare at him. “Isn’t that enough reason to hide?”

He laughs, and the sound makes something warm bubble up in her chest. “Normally, I’d say yes, but I also know how hard you worked on those pieces. Whenever I think about you and me at Agreste Fashions, hiding in a dark room with each other, it’s usually not hiding _from_ someone.” He chooses to slide down the wall to join her sitting on the floor, crossing his arms over his knees and nudging her side with his elbow. “You’re too good to need to hide, Marinette.”

She shakes her head. “Gabriel wants to kill me. Obviously I did something wrong.”

“Don’t be stupid, Mari.”

A long second passes between them before Marinette snorts and pokes his ribs in retaliation. “Why are you here anyway?”

He gestures towards the jeans he’s wearing. “Lila needed me to come in for a fitting.”

“Where’s the rest of your clothes?” she asks, dragging a finger up his chest before resting it on the cut of his collarbone. It’s easy to distract herself from the brewing hurricane right outside the door, lose herself in Adrien who’s sitting in front of her in tight pants and no shirt. “And Lila?”

A sheepish smile stretches across Adrien’s face, lips twisting into a rather chaotic expression. “Maybe I’m hiding from her too?”

There is silence and then Marinette bursts into sharp, barking laughter, shoulders shaking and head spinning. The entire hilarity of the situation settles somewhere deep in her bones, stirring butterflies and warmth in the pit of her stomach, and just makes all the weight and fear from earlier disappear. Just the comforting presence of Adrien at her side has changed everything, and somehow he came exactly when she needed him.

Suddenly, Adrien is pressing closer and surging forward, pressing his lips to hers in a frenzy. That bubbling warmth explodes into fireworks, and her body sings in an array of colors from his very touch. She kissed him back with the same frantic energy, all teeth and tongue in a way that wasn’t pretty, but both were too far gone to really fucking care right now.

Adrien places both of his hands on either side of her head against the door, rocking up on his haunches to hover over her. There’s a _click_ as he flicks the lock closed above them, and then he’s kissing her again. Pressed so close together, all she can do is breathe in that lemon oil scent that reminds her of home, of long sleepless nights huddled together under blankets, of warm showers during lazy mornings, of tired lunch breaks pouring over sketches and notes together. It reminds her of everything she loves about Adrien.

There’s a hand plucking at the buttons on the front of her blouse that pulls her from her silent reverie. “Hmm, what’re you doing?” she murmurs in the space between them.

“Passing the time,” he tells her without preamble. He peppers kisses along the edge of her jawline, words muffled against her skin. “Can’t just stay in here and discuss work until my father forgets about you or Lila comes looking.”

Her cheeks burn a furious red. “I really don’t want to think about your father while you’re trying to feel me up,” is all she can manage before he’s slipping her shirt off.

“Then think about something else,” Adrien says and pulls away, smirking that stupid smug grin that always ends up pissing her off.

 _Fine_ , she thinks. _Turnabout is fair play_.

Between their heavy breathes, she immediately fumbles for the snap of his jeans and slides a hand past the waistband of Adrien’s boxers to grab ahold of him. It’s honestly not that surprising; after all, Marinette has always been known for chasing after what she wants, and right now, all she wants is _him_.

Adrien bites back a moan and presses his face into the bend of his elbow. “You’re gonna kill me, Marinette, and we haven’t ever started.”

“You really want to do this?” she asks him instead, a smile stretched wide across hers, as she slowly pumps him. “In the place where I work? Where anyone can find us? In the building your father owns?”

“Thought we weren’t going to talk about him anymore.”

“You started it.”

While Adrien takes a moment to compose himself, Marinette shrugs off the blouse hanging off her arms and reaches back to unclasp her bra. It’s a ballet pink that’s become a hallmark in almost any collection she’s ever designed, something comfortable and Adrien’s favorite on her. She lets out a sharp breath as the garment falls to the floor and the cool air of the room makes the whole body stand on edge. Warm hands lay over her heaving breasts, a spark igniting something else inside her, and she’s left gasping at Adrien’s mercy.

“We’re gonna have to make it quick,” she reminds him, but he just shakes his head.

“We can take all the time we need.” He shrugs. “I’m sure I can use the fact that I’m the boss’s son for some leniency here.”

“You think you’re so clever, don’t y— _ahh_.” Adrien leans down and flicks a tongue over her nipple, dragging his lips in open-mouth kisses across her chest, all the while his fingers dance over the press of her ribs along her curves. “You’re really not playing fair.”

She pulls her hand from his pants and instead grasps onto his tousled blonde mane for something to anchor herself on this crazy ride. Shoving her chest closer to him, she hooks a leg around his jutting hips and lets her body tremble in his grip. Adrien grinds into her, and the two move in some sort of rhythm, offbeat but still graceful.

Marinette, under no circumstances, has ever fantasized about having sex in a fitting room with her boyfriend because Gabriel Agreste scares her shitless. But clearly Adrien has planned for this, has had dreams and etched out blueprints. He knows exactly where to touch and what to do. It’s even more clear when he pulls away for a short moment to pluck a condom from his back pocket.

“Why do you even have that in a _fitting_?” she gasps out as his hands trail down the sides of her ribcage, featherlight caresses causing her to squirm.

“You taught me to always be prepared.”

“For sex?” she asks stupidly.

He shakes his head, laughing. “For _you_ , Marinette.”

With a low grunt, Adrien pushes himself to his feet and tugs her to follow until they’re standing, hands immediately going to rid themselves of the rest of their clothing. His jeans and underwear fall to the ground in a misshapen pile, and Adrien simply steps out, not caring about the sanctity of design and wrinkles (which she will _definitely_ be lecturing him on later, even if it is Lila’s clothes). Marinette gets lost in the dance, stumbles to shift her skirt which way, too caught up in the sight of a naked Adrien Agreste in front of her.

“Close your mouth, Mari,” he tells her with a smile. “Seriously, though. We can’t let anyone hear us. This room isn’t exactly soundproof.”

“Well maybe you should’ve planned for that better,” she snipes. The air turns easy, just as comfortable as it usually is between them despite the certainly unusual situation.

Eventually though, she manages to get her own skirt and underwear thrown to the side as Adrien pushes at her hips, walking her back until the smooth ivory wall is digging into her shoulder blades. A gasp falls from her mouth, and it only takes a moment of staring into his awestruck eyes before she’s pulling him down to capture his lips in a frenzied kiss. They spend a good amount of time making out against the wall, and it isn’t until a hand slips down between her legs that Marinette freezes up like she’s been shocked.

“Right there,” is the only thing she manages, everything else lost in a breathless whimper. His fingers slip inside her, thumb tracing the outside of her lips, and a moan echoes between them.

“ _Shhh_.” Marinette hears him, but she doesn’t understand a word he’s saying. She’s too overcome by the way his thumb presses hard on her clit in small, firm circles, and she clenches around his fingers and bumps her hips awkwardly back and forth, trying to get Adrien exactly where she wants him. There’s really no use for preparation because she’s been wet since the moment she came face-to-face with her shirtless boyfriend.

“Adrien,” she gripes when it doesn’t click the way it should.

“Hold on,” he tells her. Suddenly strong hands are cradling the bottom of her thighs and picking her up, and all she can do is wrap her legs around his hips and hold onto his neck to keep from falling over. Her skin, slick with sweat, slips against the wall behind her as she and Adrien try to find a comfortable position. It ends with his face buried in her neck, stifled laughter spilling from his lips.

“We look awful,” he musters out, eyes sparkling with unbridled mirth, and Marinette has to agree. They haven’t fumbled this much since the first few times they were intimate, still learning each other’s bodies until the movements became instinct.

“Come on, come on, hurry up,” she grumbles with a smile.

“You don’t need to sound so put out,” he says.

Marinette presses her lips to his in a messy kiss, teeth clacking as Adrien readjusts them, his cock tickling the sensitive skin of her inner thigh. She shivers in Adrien’s grip, her legs tightening around his hips, and a low moan reverberates through the room as he slowly enters her. Adrien’s own groan echoes a few octaves higher, and Marinette tries to choke back her laughter at the sound. The pair of them, both usually so confident and collected, sure know how to make a mess of things together.

“Thought we were supposed to be quiet,” she tells him with unbridled glee. He nips at her jawline in retort, and it only makes her laugh harder.

Adrien pumps his hips slowly like he’s trying to savor the experience, but Marinette throws caution to the wind and tries to grind down onto him. One arm wrapped around his neck, she buries the other into his thick mane of hair, turning it from tousled to morning after, which somehow makes him more endearing to her. He grunts and readjusts his grip, holding her tight as he slams her back down towards his hips.

The cool press of the wall behind her feels great against her sweat-slick skin. “Fuck, fuck, Adrien,” she gasps, body trembling. That ball of warmth in the pit of her stomach makes her quiver from her head to her toes.

She rolls her hips artfully, pulling a strangled groan from the depths of his chest. “How do you _do that_?” Eager to please, just as eager to give, Marinette has no quarrels with pulling out her secret tricks to make him as miserable as she is right now (as if). Straining against the urge to explode is not what dynamites were born to do.

The room is full of heavy breathes and hushed whispers, muted wanton whimpers and muffled laughter that comes from two people just happy to be in each other’s presence. There’s an electricity in the air that makes her hair stand on end, and Marinette knows that she can’t take much more before it’s over. The smack of Adrien’s hips against her echoes reverberates between them as both chase their release, Adrien’s face buried between her breasts and her own chin hooked over his shoulder.

She clenches down tight around him, body shaking as her climax hits hard. Thighs quake from where they try to hold onto Adrien tighter, but it’s not long before he’s spilling over the edge as well. The two stay pressed against the wall for a little while longer, trying to regain some sense albeit their spinning world.

“That was something else,” is all Marinette can manage when she comes down.

Adrien chuckles, shoulders shaking, and presses a kiss to the corner of her lips. “That’s one way of putting it, I guess.”

“How long have you wanted to do that?”

“Have sex with you?” He quirks a brow high, gingerly setting her back down on the ground and making quick work of disposing his condom. “Since the last time this morning probably.”

“Not what I meant, and you know it,” she calls over her shoulder, making her way over to their haphazard pile of clothing next to the door, which has thankfully stayed closed through this whole ordeal. “I meant harass me at work.”

“Is that what you call it now?”

Marinette shakes her head, shrugging into her blouse and giving her skirt and undergarments a critical eye, already knowing she’s going to have to find a bathroom to clean up in whilst simultaneously dodging Gabriel Agreste for the rest of the afternoon. Adrien comes up behind her, already in his jeans from the fitting, the denim material now wrinkled in a way that Marinette takes great joy in knowing it’s Lila’s abhorrent design.

Strong arms wrap around her waist, pulling her flush against his still sweat-slick chest. “What can I say, Mari? Modeling is a long and tiring job. I tend to daydream in my downtime.”

“Well I’m glad it was everything you wanted,” she tells him and turns in his arms, kissing his grin clean off his face. Adrien sags into it, body relaxing and limbs turning languid.

Marinette almost loses herself in it herself before her phone buzzes in her pocket. A quick glance down makes her sigh, and she drops her forehead against her boyfriend’s collarbone.

“Mylene says Gabriel’s coming back to this floor,” she says. “I have to bolt.”

“Better get a move on, Dupain-Cheng.”

Dressed as best as she can be, smoothing down her sex-tangled curls with one hand on the door, she flashes Adrien a bright smile. “See you tonight if your father doesn’t kill me.”

His laughter echoes on and on, heard well into the hall as she takes off for the next hiding spot, and it leaves something warm beating in the depths of her heart.

Oh how she loves that stupid boy.

**Author's Note:**

> Also I can't write smut, and for that, I'm truly sorry.


End file.
